Sentence The Seventyfifth
Now, just how it came to pass that, unpredetermined by the Great Architect of the Universe, as part of his (or her) great master-plan, with its detailed instructions for every thought, movement, action, sound and word uttered by every individual person (not to mention the beasts of the sea, land and air) who ever has or ever will walk the face of the earth, Miss Nikki Marianella – described by Theresa as a Dresden Shepherdess, but in truth an Optician practising in Galashiels and Melrose in the Borderlands – should, after the passage of several days since Teri's momentous sighting of her at the Doune Antiques Centre, only to lose sight of her, transpire to arrive at Rosie's cottage door just in time to rouse Teri from an apathetic ennui which threatened to disturb her mind, body and soul;
but Nikki explained how, having been to the toilet, she emerged into the bright sunshine, just in time
to catch sight of Teri and Rosie, on the red motorbike, gun out of the car park, and she watched them turn right at the end of the drive, on to the main road; now, Nikki was nothing if not diligent - she had identified the make and model of the motorbike, its colour and registration number; armed with this information, she had contacted the DVLA and spoken with an extremely sympathetic girl there, who promptly explained the process for discovering the name and address of the registered owner who had dropped a fardel, and bundled in its folds an item of great value, as she drove away; Nikki had filled in form V888 and submitted it, with the payment of £2.50 for a search and, just this very morning, she had received an e-mail and a telephone call from the extremely pleasant and helpful girl she had previously spoken with; armed with this information and supposedly clutching the item of value, she had set off almost immediately for it took no mastery of the science of Geodesy or Geophysics – nor even Chinese Geomancy – to find the cottage hidden in the folds of the Campsie Hills (just like a jewel bundled into a fardel) and on her arrival there spotted the red motorbike sitting outside; without a shred of apprehension or thoughts of possible rejection, she rapped on the door with her knuckles; at her knock, the door had been opened by the passenger she had seen sitting behind the young woman who had caught her eye at the Antique Centre – so she had asked if Miss Rosamund Somerville was by chance at home, at which Rosie laughed – the same musically, tinkling laugh as that possessed by Teri, which always delights her aunts when they hear it; Rosie explained that she was Rosamund and this was her home but she thought the visitor must be looking for her cousin Teri who lives in Edinburgh; and quickly observing the crestfallen look which had passed over the visitor's face, as a cloud will pass over the sun or moon, she added that her cousin was staying with her for a few days - the resulting expression of relief and delight on Nikki's face was a joy to behold, and Rosie had no hesitation in inviting the one whom she still thought of as Teri's Dresden Shepherdess into her cottage and swiftly darted off to make Teri aware of her visitor – now, these are the bald facts: what they hide is a far more complex and significant tale of Vene, Vidi, Amavi; for in that first glimpse of each other, casually, inadvertently, while each was apparently engrossed in an examination of the delightful objets d'art displayed in the Antiques Centre, an enormous amount of information had passed (just as when we bring our tablet into the range of our laptop and enable their pairing) which, while lacking the practicality of such prosaic details as name and address, age and marital status, employment history and how each had voted in the Referendum, nevertheless had paired them as effectively as we pair our telephone through Bluetooth with that of a stranger encountered in a Cafeteria or Bar; it was a look which spoke of longing and passion, of unrequited love and desperation, it told of warm embraces and gsoh, of the matching of tenderness with strength, of a tinkling laugh expressed through the upward curl of smiling lips, of fun and fancy in the sparkling of blue eyes (Teri's) and amber eyes (Nikki's), and of a deep and lasting love possible for two who until that moment had been strangers, completely unknown to one another beyond a chance encounter which had brought a bloom to each other's cheek and a parting of their lips in wonder at the possibility of what was surely impossible; and here, and now, they were both in one small room, Nikki having followed behind Teri's introduction of her as a Dresden Shepherdess, 'what is she talking about' flashed through Nikki's brain but was immediately forgotten, as her two eyes locked on Theresa's and she needed no dragoman to interpret what she saw, and in a moment she had crossed the room, Teri had risen and dropped the book of Seneca's Collected Letters from her lap, they had embraced and kissed – oh, such a kiss and such promises it held and such a commitment it contained for both of them – they do say 'the first kiss is the deepest,' but
WOW!
Now, just how it came to pass that, unpredetermined by the Great Architect of the Universe, as part of his (or her) great master-plan, with its detailed instructions for every thought, movement, action, sound and word uttered by every individual person (not to mention the beasts of the sea, land and air) who ever has or ever will walk the face of the earth, Miss Nikki Marianella – described by Theresa as a Dresden Shepherdess, but in truth an Optician practising in Galashiels and Melrose in the Borderlands – should, after the passage of several days since Teri's momentous sighting of her at the Doune Antiques Centre, only to lose sight of her, transpire to arrive at Rosie's cottage door just in time to rouse Teri from an apathetic ennui which threatened to disturb her mind, body and soul;
but Nikki explained how, having been to the toilet, she emerged into the bright sunshine, just in time
to catch sight of Teri and Rosie, on the red motorbike, gun out of the car park, and she watched them turn right at the end of the drive, on to the main road; now, Nikki was nothing if not diligent - she had identified the make and model of the motorbike, its colour and registration number; armed with this information, she had contacted the DVLA and spoken with an extremely sympathetic girl there, who promptly explained the process for discovering the name and address of the registered owner who had dropped a fardel, and bundled in its folds an item of great value, as she drove away; Nikki had filled in form V888 and submitted it, with the payment of £2.50 for a search and, just this very morning, she had received an e-mail and a telephone call from the extremely pleasant and helpful girl she had previously spoken with; armed with this information and supposedly clutching the item of value, she had set off almost immediately for it took no mastery of the science of Geodesy or Geophysics – nor even Chinese Geomancy – to find the cottage hidden in the folds of the Campsie Hills (just like a jewel bundled into a fardel) and on her arrival there spotted the red motorbike sitting outside; without a shred of apprehension or thoughts of possible rejection, she rapped on the door with her knuckles; at her knock, the door had been opened by the passenger she had seen sitting behind the young woman who had caught her eye at the Antique Centre – so she had asked if Miss Rosamund Somerville was by chance at home, at which Rosie laughed – the same musically, tinkling laugh as that possessed by Teri, which always delights her aunts when they hear it; Rosie explained that she was Rosamund and this was her home but she thought the visitor must be looking for her cousin Teri who lives in Edinburgh; and quickly observing the crestfallen look which had passed over the visitor's face, as a cloud will pass over the sun or moon, she added that her cousin was staying with her for a few days - the resulting expression of relief and delight on Nikki's face was a joy to behold, and Rosie had no hesitation in inviting the one whom she still thought of as Teri's Dresden Shepherdess into her cottage and swiftly darted off to make Teri aware of her visitor – now, these are the bald facts: what they hide is a far more complex and significant tale of Vene, Vidi, Amavi; for in that first glimpse of each other, casually, inadvertently, while each was apparently engrossed in an examination of the delightful objets d'art displayed in the Antiques Centre, an enormous amount of information had passed (just as when we bring our tablet into the range of our laptop and enable their pairing) which, while lacking the practicality of such prosaic details as name and address, age and marital status, employment history and how each had voted in the Referendum, nevertheless had paired them as effectively as we pair our telephone through Bluetooth with that of a stranger encountered in a Cafeteria or Bar; it was a look which spoke of longing and passion, of unrequited love and desperation, it told of warm embraces and gsoh, of the matching of tenderness with strength, of a tinkling laugh expressed through the upward curl of smiling lips, of fun and fancy in the sparkling of blue eyes (Teri's) and amber eyes (Nikki's), and of a deep and lasting love possible for two who until that moment had been strangers, completely unknown to one another beyond a chance encounter which had brought a bloom to each other's cheek and a parting of their lips in wonder at the possibility of what was surely impossible; and here, and now, they were both in one small room, Nikki having followed behind Teri's introduction of her as a Dresden Shepherdess, 'what is she talking about' flashed through Nikki's brain but was immediately forgotten, as her two eyes locked on Theresa's and she needed no dragoman to interpret what she saw, and in a moment she had crossed the room, Teri had risen and dropped the book of Seneca's Collected Letters from her lap, they had embraced and kissed – oh, such a kiss and such promises it held and such a commitment it contained for both of them – they do say 'the first kiss is the deepest,' but
WOW!
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